Jedi II - Forgotten Identity
by SuperMudz
Summary: Part Two of this "Jedi" trilogy, featuring "Per'l" the Jedi. Dedicated to Carrie's Ghost.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

REBEL

* * *

"So what did you name this bucket of bolts? It has nothing registered."

"It's not supposed to. But it's called the _Unknown. _Kell... wanted me to call it the _Ghost, _but I... guess I get to name it now."

It was bothering him more than he cared to admit.

They were drifting through the outer reaches of the sector K'ulltha now.

"So what are you going to do with this foster child?"

"Drop her off in the nearest swamps."

"You wouldn't."

They passed the dual gas moons of Aras. There was a refuelling and supply station there. It was weeks off the ordinary routes and hardly anyone would be using it, but it was there. The last time it had seen constant use, the Rebellion had been... sending its fleets for war.

Unam was peeling a grop-fruit in the mess hall. "No droids. We should pick up one. We can't keep this ship running without at least one or two."

"Macron brought it to my attention. How's your shot?"

"Pretty good, didn't you hear about the trooper I shot?"

In fact, Unam had been telling everyone he could about the trooper he shot. He was very proud of it, directly to the back of the helmet. It would have been a stun shot, but that trooper would be dead now anyway. Along with Kell.

Per'l had mentioned it just for levity, but the path of thinking darkened his mood again.

"Be ready to go when we land."

"Yes, sir."

They were heading for the mining platform of Aras II. A massive sprawling dock platform over an equally massive mining space station, directing the operations for half the system. It had been in operation for perhaps forty years, and was one of the most significant refuel ports in the sector. It used to be Imperial, but it had been liberated early on in the change-over. Its owners hadn't cared much who the government was, as long as their profits were the same.

He found Macron doing a systems check in one of the sub-holds framing an access relay for the computer system. She did most of her engine and deflector dish analysis on that terminal port when she wasn't on helm duty.

She was clearing it out, checking it. "Hacker in the system. One of their remote micro-spy-droids got into an outlet." She wiggled the double-filamented plug at him.

"Any damage?"

"I don't think so. It went straight for astro-navigation and engines, but I've got a TieMPV-2 system lock on all of these bad boys. It fried itself trying, and I caught it before it could go for a physical hack, get into one of the photon-cables."

Astro-navigation was hard-locked into the ship systems itself, getting rid of those was like getting rid of a tick burrowed under your skin. If all you had was a thumb-nail, tough going.

They had encountered several ex-Imperial probe droids a few parsecs back when entering the system. The Jedi ship _Crescent _had supplied them with an A-Wing class fighter, and he had been able to give the _Unknown _some fighter cover. It was touch and go, but eventually the droids gave up the bait or were destroyed.

They brought one of the destroyed devices onboard. They kept it in the bomb hold. Especially designed to transport explosives. He had given it a sweep, but you couldn't be too careful from what he was told. It might take out their generator, but at least they wouldn't all be sucked out into space in a fiery doom. Just the head remained of it, now. Hardly enough to contain anything serious. But according to Macron that's where the spy-droid originated.

Macron was attempting to decrypt it, now, using a hand-held algorithmic logger. They weren't foolish enough to try using any of the ship computers to decrypt it, who knows what kind of influence it could have on the old thing.

But it had produced many of its own habits anyway.

"It alternates waves in response to incoming signals, I guess... this one was a little too much for it."

He checked the shields, and then the power stabiliser systems. It all seemed fine.

Macron would find him later, leaning up against the power regulator coils, drinking hot kwah out of a cup. He didn't have anywhere else on the ship but the cockpit to do his thinking, and he hadn't felt like conversation. It had all rushed out of him and left him drained.

Macron was very sharp. She was Force sensitive, a Jedi-in-training like he was, which meant that despite her good manner, she wasn't to be trifled with. No-one trained by Luke was. In fact, she might have spent more time with him than he had.

The nature of being a Jedi however, is that the font of wisdom was eternal and present beyond all of them, neither Padawan nor trained Jedi was to be overlooked. But especially the master.

It combined good and grief.

He discussed it with Macron.

"Sith or bad Jedi, what difference does it make?"

He spent some credits requesting some deep searches from Coruscant central corth-hol, transmitting him all their files on the Sith, no matter how obscure they were.

Looking at the entries, he knew he could spend over ten thousand hours just searching through them, searching for what he wanted.

He needed something to sort the data if he wanted to short-cut that time, or he was looking at a few years' work.

He started his work by cross-referencing terms, hoping to narrow it down somewhat. There was a lot of history stored here. He didn't have anything in mind, he didn't really know what he wanted to see, what would help him. What he really wanted to know is if they still existed, if they were still operating.

According to Kell, they said. And this... this was odd. The most recent entries... they _were _recent.

He had been thinking to identify some past Sith bases, or planets of interest or things of some sort, but this was pretty recent activity.

He searched it, his face an eerie picture in shadow and light. A cult? _No..._ some sort of... mining operation? Sith devotees? Archaeologists?

Force give him the light, he didn't even know where to begin with this flotsam. He needed to talk to Luke Skywalker. In all the galaxy, he was the only one who would actually _know. _If Sith had reared their heads some years ago, without Per'l even being aware of it, _Luke _would have been. But he had never mentioned it...

Per'l rubbed his throat, an unconscious gesture.

"I started calling her "Akid". It means "a child" in ancient Bothnean," she had added.

_Quite a coincidence. _He thought. He wondered at the common root of languages sometimes.

They were still trying to figure out what exactly to do with her, and didn't come to any good resolution.

"I'm going to take my meditation in an hour." He had told her as well.

He was supposed to be doing it daily, but it was easy to forget things like that under the pressure of circumstances like these. All the more important to do it, he knew he would have been told.

Unam was in the off-deck, a make-shift armoury of sorts where he was breaking down a set of thermal detonators. They were all to be kept dis-armed while on board, but it looked like he might be assembling a new set. He had earned his proficiency in this work, which made him a good addition, he was more than just an extra gun – but that helped too.

It was standard New Republic trooper first training to be able to do things, and it kept him busy.

Per'l would join him, working on the e-battery for his shield belt. They had all taken some severe hits, he'd have to try and re-modulate them, to get whatever shield capacity was left out of it. They didn't have the equipment necessary on the ship to try and recharge them. Usually when a belt was spent, the user soon was afterwards, easier just to keep extra belts with full charge, but they didn't have that option now. The Jedi ship had been completely Spartan, still not fully equipped to carry on some kind of mission.

That cloning facility they had left behind and destroyed, troubled him. At least that's what it appeared like. He needed to show his findings to Skywalker or the newly established New Republic Council.

He technically had his crew now, but he still needed a few more things. The distance he'd have to travel on no refundment was quite large.

He needed a way to find the Sith. If they were emerging in the galaxy once again, it could have dire consequences for everyone...

(*)

Somehow he had survived. She found him in the wreckage. He had not been alone.

Preserved by the Force, but this... alien grasp. He looked at her by narrowed eyes. He had a punctured lung, and every bone in his body hurt, but his survival belt and the Force bubble projected around him had protected him. He didn't know how she did it, but she did.

She picked him out of the wreckage.

"If you wish to redeem your love, you'll do as I say" she hissed.

He made no reply to that, but stared at her. His hatred was no secret – not now.

They had gathered in another place. Part of the base that had not been ruined. The central asteroid base had been destroyed, which had not pleased the Sith at all.

"When?" he asked. His jacket was covered in asteroid dust, and he was weaponless, but he imagined he could strike her with had-juan hand strikes, were it not for her lightsaber. He did not trust her any more than the Jedi, but the difference was that he knew she was an enemy. He could trust in that.

"First an army. Then your revenge."

They spoke while his life had been bleeding away. But he had survived in time. She had protected him with her strange powers, and it was up to him to crawl the rest of the way.

The med-robot held no particular allegiance – it patched him up as readily as it would the New Republic. It had already changed ownership once or twice.

"You've already died once. We shall give you a new purpose in this life." And he was suddenly frozen, unable to move. A tendon twitched. _The witch was using the Force!_

She must have guessed at his thoughts, and didn't like them. Too bad for her. She wasn't the one he followed. At least, she wasn't the one he had been answering to. But she was useful as a physical being.

The troopers entered the hallway, silently, their masks glittering.

"First," she said, "we must go to the remaining sites. Gather. This one..." she hissed, "is done."

"We have what we came for." She said, holding up the capsule. It glowed. "Get it on the ship."

_Your body perished, but we have more. Do not waste our resources. This Jedi must die. _He had heard her voice.

Her story began two years ago. A dark shadow had stolen over her, and then she had known her true name. She had followed it out to dark and nameless worlds, and there, she found her master, her calling.

New Republic or Empire, she cared not. But the Jedi, they were a legion, they would control the balance of power.

She laughed. This fool would follow her to the end of the universe. She toyed with him with her illusions, but her mission was genuine.

(*)

They fired the net, an emp shield that buffeted them against the vast seeded cloud of micro-droids, reproduced by the millions into a seeking swarm that would draw towards star-ships paths and intercept them.

They hit the shield like staccato rain.

They were at less than ninety percent power already, he might have to shift power even more to the forward deflector from the rear and hope they didn't markyan-trait and start sucking up drones between the fields. A cloud this size could create quite an effective impeller field, crushing its bits together like a fist, especially if they started weaving, although that would shift some of the weight.

It took them an hour to shake free.

Space always seemed to have a few surprises for them.

After another systems check, Per'l checked on Macron in the cockpit, working on the navigation charts.

"What have you found?"

"Look, here's the resupply station."

"Any chance they'll be selling droids?"

"Hum. Maybe not likely, but they'll have bacta –"

"We should hit another Imperial post. See if they have any droids to jack that haven't been claimed by the New Republic yet. They won't mind us paying ourselves a droid or two at the same time for expenses." Chimed in Gunn, their gunner specialist.

"Alright. But let's not descend into straight piracy, ex-government or not."

"Guess you weren't really around for the Rebellion war, huh?" Macron commented dryly.

"Yeah, I was – but the situation's changed now. It's not a rebellion anymore. And we represent the Jedi as agents more than the New Republic itself. With so many worlds on the brink of disaster and recovery, everything we liberate could be used in the restoration. It's the Jedi way to think of others not just ourselves."

"Well okay, boss, but we won't be much help if we let ourselves starve to the brink every time, either. Maybe you should just prioritise."

It was a good point. And he thought much that way himself – but if they scored a big load like an operational but abandoned ex-Imperial station, that was a political sized asset. Unless they decided they wanted to turn it into their own personal pirate base, they wouldn't have any use for it.

But they would have use for the smaller supplies. Munitions, energy cells, replacement parts, and astro and mechanical maintenance droids. All the things of a starship. Food and water as well. He was just doing what was decent and normal, ready to report in supplies to the New Republic. He didn't think Princess Leia had ever heard of him, but if he ever met her, he'd be able to say he helped her relief efforts to the worlds particularly hard hit by the Empire and the war both, or even just plain misfortune.

"We'll need a navigator, especially for this sector," Per'l said. He didn't know if he could somehow get a droid fitted for both ship maintenance and astro-navigation but it couldn't hurt to think about it. Sometimes a droid was the only way to get the sufficient man-power out here – without the man. Or woman, he supposed, as Macron happened to be there.

He thought of Maron.

"So, where to, boss?"

He brought in the crew, and they discussed it. He told them he had two objectives, so to the extent they overlapped would be in everyone's favour.

Most of them were there simply on New Republic cognisance. There had been a lot of back-and-forth involved, the Council was well aware that the Jedi were their best agents, and were highly survivalist. They got results at a surprising rate.

It didn't take much discussion. The resupply station it was. They all had a list of things they thought they'd need. There had been rumours in the intercommunications network that there was more activity in the New Republic war front. Their transport was small, but it should be able to get them there in good time.

He just realised her discomfort with physical contact didn't extend to Basshan babies.

Thanks to their efforts in "liberating" information from the Remnant command center on Raftar IV, he had gotten in a report back from both Skywalker at the Jedi Temple, _and _his contact in the New Republic. A brusque woman who didn't seem to like him much. Ex-Imperial, he suspected darkly to himself.

"Beforrre the Rebelllion, we alll were – people" he clicked for emphasis. "Rebellion meant... new life..." the Trandoshan was talking to them in the mess hall.

They were all still trying to come to terms with their latest adventure.

"How did they ambush you in the first place?" Per'l asked. Gunn answered.

"Shadow troopers. They were cloaked right up until they had us surrounded. I hope that station took all of those bastards with them."

_Shadow troopers. _He shivered. He didn't like the way that was going. If there were Sith out there, or even a Sith master... a legion of invisible troopers at his command would be an advantage Jedi weren't going to like.

Before Per'l had ever arrived on Raftar IV, they had searched for six months for Sith. Luke would not be persuaded. But he was told to persist.

"If the Remnant are building their forces once more, and are building an army of these... invisible troopers, we need to get this information to either Luke Skywalker or the New Republic, and right now the New Republic is a lot closer.

"We tag along with one of their big cruisers, and head in to the center of current affairs, the headquarters on Yantoo. It's a big space citadel, most of the political heads have their offices set up there."

He had been encouraged to investigate, although Luke seemed oddly careful about the notion of the Sith operating. He probably thought it was a little too neat. Per'l's own personal hobby coming to light like that. Per'l didn't blame him, and was patient with the notion of gaining better results than a handed off rumour.

He was trying not to let his torment with betrayal affect him where it could be seen, but there was a mild grief in losing a friend, let alone becoming his target. For a Jedi, these emotions were especially fraught.

Macron was there, with Akid.

"Where's the loo on this ship?" Of course, the ship was still unfamiliar to her. She had spent most of her time on the "B" transport, and the _Crescent. _

"Oh, the lavatory? Down there."

Some ships didn't even have them – you needed to stop at port – or use your space suit. Sometimes they had... odd facilities. But his ship boasted its very own proper washroom, he was very proud. He could probably fit a botany chamber on this ship if he had to.

Macron took the Basshan by the hand to take her there. "Come this way, sweetie."

_All that ship knowledge, and she still doesn't know where the bathroom is._

(*)

Elsewhere. A forgotten world with its frontier buried in dust.

Young child about to become a Jedi. A Jedi enters in out of the sand-storm. Pulls back the cowl. It's Luke. He smiles.

They provided well for him.

He had a toy sabre and a toy star-ship. He'd have to leave those behind. His parents admonish him. "If you want to be a Jedi..."

_Luke had been unsure about taking young acolytes. He knew it was the most receptive age, but these were also the most unsure times. Those who had been recruited so far were those of strong character forged by hardship uinder the Empire, and had a determination that Luke used to forge them into his. They had talents and reasons. But this is the first one that was based simply on hope. That Jedi would have value._

_He had recruited people who were able to look after themselves, to depart their families and make a new life over – but this one had barely begun._

_He did not wish to take children only to see them be slaughtered._

_On a starship, it turned out that a galaxy of adventure was a good place for these children after all. The Jedi had come once more, and there were those, guardians of light, whom one could entrust._

(*)

Later, Luke returned to the grand citadel where Leia waited for him to relate his report.

"In some places they trust too little, in some places they trust too much," he sighed, scrubbing his still sandy hair, although it would not be long before it was white sand.

"I have every confidence that'll change for the better, with your persistence."

He had been out and about, gauging the reputation of the Jedi in the galaxy at large. What kind of place awaited them. He didn't want his new generation to face consequences unprepared.

(*)

The crew all gathered in the mess, chatting and discussing their situation. They knew what they were about, but Per'l, while somewhat the de facto leader, had a goal of his own besides doing some scout missions for the Jedi temple.

Also he had to figure out how to get the Basshan girl back to her own world, she obviously couldn't just stay with them. He didn't think it'd be wise to attempt to break a blockade back to her own world. The best course of action would be to wait until it had ended, and find her a transport back on that world.

The very best course would be to hand her over to Luke or some responsible party in the New Republic, and wait until the world itself was sequestered from Remnant control.

He had to scavenge his information any way he could. From comms channels, from personal missives from the New Republic, his own scout drones, which he had picked up free at a bargain two for one from New Republic stocks. He had got a lucky grab in early on when they visited Yavin IV to supply.

They had paused the ship outside a nebula they wanted to pass through. They were going to test it with a few communication probes – anything could be waiting in there. They fired the modified missiles into the nebula.

Soon, the missiles were transmitting back information.

While they waited.

"Well she knows her way around straw hydration, I give you that."

"I showed her, she ought to."

"She might as well pay for her passage while she's here. But let's make sure she has nice things to say when she gets back home. Her family treated me very well – sheltered me from troopers."

Macron looked at him for a little bit. "Okay."

After another few hours, Macron found something. The nebula was well behind them.

"How far away is it?"

"About two weeks. A lot of spaces in between our ship doesn't have charted. New Republic records must be out-of-date."

"Alright, chart a course. Let's keep our engine power at under 50% though. If it turns out it's a bust, then we can still make a good turn to New Republic space without over-running them."

He wasn't sensing anything disturbing about it yet, between the two of them, they knew to keep alert for things like that.

The Sith were still on his mind. But he had reported what he could to Luke – spent a good several hours talking to him in the comms room. But nothing further had developed.

They had managed to talk to the Basshan child as well and learn a little bit about her. Everything he wanted to know was still a mystery, but they got... several... names out of her, and she asked for a bit of food. After a bit of experimentation (he himself knowing that they were human comparable in metabolism) they found something she liked – and she was occupying herself in the mess hall, near the equipment stash, keeping out of people's way. There was nothing she could harm herself with, and she couldn't spend the whole trip in the cockpit with Macron.

Macron was working on the lower cabinet with the electro-drill.

He actually de-converted some of the bread he had converted from that family, and let her have that, which produced a happy expression. It made him feel oddly pleased to share it.

Several slender assault craft passed them on the way once. They didn't belong to the New Republic. Mercenary ships, the sort that you usually saw escorting traders from post to post. They must have been on their way to something like that.

It was often polite to exchange hails, but they didn't seem interested in talking.

Per'l conducted a thorough sensor sweep of the _Unknown _when they were out in space. He didn't want any invisible assassins ambushing them in their sleep. He swept the halls with a personal hand discharge unit, usually designed to drain power from the engine in emergencies, but also good for camoflague and stealth suits if he was close enough.

The sensors didn't detect any displacement however, and after a few sweeps he decided they were safe. The Force wasn't telling him anything.

The Jedi ship _Crescent _had lent them the use of an A-Wing. If there was trouble, he'd pilot it himself to defend the ship. But they could also make a landing in it.

He meditated.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

STATION

* * *

Someone came to guide them in. A cheery hello.

"Who's that guy?" Macron asked, watching his strange fighter approach on the screen.

"That's Captain Anders! He's quite a hero in these parts."

Macron seemed quite taken with him as well.

He had wavy brown hair, and a charming grin, and he shook their hands with gusto, his helmet under his arm. He greeted them in the Mandalorian way, which shocked them at first.

"Oh don't worry, I just spent a lot of time with those guys, it would be rude not to hold onto some of their traditions. They taught me everything I know about guerrilla fighting and half of what I know about personal combat."

"And everything else?"

"One hundred percent Anders, I can guarantee. And the – well, we weren't part of the Rebellion, per se, but we did resist Imperial occupation. It was a grand day when Luke took down that Death Star, I can tell you. Still can't believe they built another one, but I guess we all learned from it, and once we did, it was all over for the Empire."

Per'l tried thinking of Kell, who could have been with them here this moment to meet the captain, but he felt a wave like hatred and revulsion sweep over him. He hadn't even begun to explore his feelings about what happened, although he knew he should. He felt unequipped.

Anders spoke up. "I had thirteen charges which all demanded the death penalty under Imperial law. All wiped clean by the New Republic. No matter what else, I'm their man."

Although Per'l was certain these systems would have a use for him, his fighter skills were almost legendary. He wondered if he could learn anything from him.

Most people had training and skills instead of Jedi reflexes to help them in combat, but Per'l knew that to have both would be the greatest ticket to success.

Anders escorted them to the station after he had rejoined his own ship.

He was there when they landed. He was going to be their escort.

The gas clouds of the planet reached so high they formed water clouds above the station. It was often swept with rain, and almost always wet with moisture unless they closed the shields. You needed a mask to breathe this high, or they had to fetch you with a transport.

Per'l had studied his fighter as they had been brought in for a landing.

An off fighter with four wings surmounted by more cylinders with a sphere on the end like the cockpit.

He surmised they were some kind of high-powered deflector metronodes of some kind, designed to deflect fire away from the real cockpit. Take some pretty fancy manoeuvring in a fight, you'd have to line up a zero target every time out of blind zones.

Unless he had some additional flight equipment not immediately obvious.

Those blind zones... not many pilots would give up line of sight for a firing solution, he wasn't sure what to make of that. Maybe he usually flew with a wing-man.

Their usual ships were more like ellipses. He was familiar with the craft of Umbatu, Anders' system of origin.

Per'l shuddered. He didn't think he could stand it. Give him an A-Wing or X-Wing every time. You could rotate and keep a clear 270 degree cone of visibility at all times. You'd barely get 180 out of that, and that was a big difference. Plus, no astro droid – who would watch your rear?

It was just a kill waiting to happen, he didn't know how Anders survived long enough to become a legend. Even a Jedi couldn't survive that wreck.

He landed his own fighter on the docking deck.

His A-Wing looking splendid on the rotary landing platform.

"Ah, the A-Wing. You still like that old classic, huh? Yeah, I used to fly a few of those back in the day."

Per'l started to feel a little heated under the collar. An A-Wing was a powerful fighter – even TIE fighters panicked when they saw a formation of those. Twin proton lasers and a missile complement, extremely high manouvreability and speed, and even a strong deflector defense – the Empire had soon learned to fear these hunters. Their modest design belied their incredible engine power under combat conditions.

Very single-minded, but very powerful.

Anders' ship appear to just have a dual fusion cannon mount directly under the cockpit. Per'l wondered. Those things were fast, they would spit out atomic laser bolts at up to five rounds a second. But that was it. It seemed even more conservative than the A-Wing.

They walked through the ship's pressure bubble.

Unam accompanied them inside as well, adjusting his blaster holster. All kinds of types could be waiting for them inside. They entered the station.

Someone attacked them in the hallways, and then disappeared.

"Some kind of blue-cloaked assassin." Per'l told the station security manager.

"Very helpful," the Rodian replied sardonically.

Barracks of troopers, he'd have to address them, he had a communique to play transport chief. He wouldn't be the only ship coming in, it was a rendezvous point, and there were at least a hundred troopers waiting for transport. He could occupy his time with it as well. Earn that New Republic credit chip.

New Republic troopers, that was more like it.

The New Republic had convinced many worlds to support it, naturally, most of the worlds that had been sympathetic to the Rebellion supported it. Some, though, were completely tired of over-reaching rule and seceded entirely, despite Princess Leia's formidable negotiations, and this was respected. Sometimes a world simply needed to take its peace, rest from its labours for a while. The New Republic would still be around later, when they might think about reaching out once more.

At the same time, it did create some problems they would have to deal with.

Diplomacy was a Jedi occupation as well. They would not be so much creatures of peace and justice, if all they were was warriors.

But it didn't hurt, either. They had a formidable reputation, not least of which was thanks to the mighty Luke Skywalker.

The Empire had recruited children too. Infants, babes. Too young to know anything else. And raised them to be soldiers.

He explored the dock with them, where they were uncovering one of the latest ship advancements for the New Republic, refuelling it here before it was sent off to rendezvous with the main New Republic fleet.

"It's a new fighter class, called the C-Wing. We want you to take our Yellow Squadron into combat on the moon of Deneb. We're having a tough time with the hostiles there, you could be an asset."

He stroked his short beard, thinking about it.

(*)

The Sith creature. Now Kell had met him.

"I wonder what would have happened... if Luke had simply waited for them to die..." he said, trickling the sand out of his hand. "After all... no-one is immortal."

He flicked around the chips in his fingers and made them disappear.

Kell watched him.

(*)

Per'l did lead the mission. Anders accompanied him. There was victory, and much celebration.

_Something to tell Maron, when this is all over._

(*)

The theory of temporal travel is that one could do it forward and not backwards. Jedi possessed many strange powers, but control over time was an elusive concept.

He studied the worm swimming in the strange energy solution, writhing as if in ecstasy

A whole bank of them. They were growing. He swept over them with his shadow, and stalked to the forward bay, with navigation, the stars careening outside – unseen in the billowing storm.

"Do you ever wonder about reproduction?"

"My lord?"

"Whenever life-forms have a child... that child is new-born... original. Though they are fifty years old, yet it is none. Reproduction occurs when cells replicate themselves. But when the cells of the parents replicated into this new life-form, it began time again. It travelled back to infancy, as if all those decades of its parents didn't exist."

"It is the secret of a worm-hole into the past. Each to be cared for by the former."

"In a biological sense, that new-born child is the biological matter of the contributing parents. But we cannot reverse age. We cannot make an old man young again. Such sciences are lost to myth. But in the innocent eyes of an infant, that secret of the universe lives, every generation, every child, every time."

"Within our grasp and yet we cannot touch it."

"The parents never get younger, although their cells divide many times. It hardly seems fair does it? From their own flesh, and yet it alone possesses the property to return to youth, from a single beginning."

"It is an impossibility of the universe." He said softly, staring at the stars. "The possibilities are limitless in such a universe."

And then he turned, glancing at his hand where the crate held something of interest to him inside.

"...and this continues generation after generation. The same cell stock. Continually younger."

He looked at the officer.

"The cosmos is much like that, I believe."

He had finished inputting the navigational information onto the computer, and now took his ease, looking more imperial than imperial officers.

"It defies biological laws. Life itself dictates when it becomes anew, and it always chooses the new vessel. So, in a sense, we are all chosen by the universe. We do not inherit the infirmities of our parents, but nor are we protected from its end. What can one do against such inexorable force?"

There was no reply.

Wise on his part. The Sith seemed to think his only appropriate companion was himself, or the universe itself. He merely played his part in it.

There was a silence, and then the creature turned to speak to him.

"Are the genetic soldiers ready?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Never forget. I am the key to your power. The rewards will come swiftly." Click, click.

_We allied ourselves with this dark magician. _The stormtrooper was uneasy with the thought. _I only hope the reward is as great as the trouble we've gone to._

If his commanding officer knew his thoughts, he would have reprimanded him, but the stormtrooper kept his thoughts to himself.

(*)

Per'l handled the new report, feeling a little leaden in his gut. He had hidden himself in the transport, and was just letting himself be ferried to the new destination. A lot more convenient than following under the radar. Without knowing their hyper-space vector, it'd be tricky anyway. And he certainly didn't want his ship getting blown out of the sky.

_A mission's not complete without at least one stowaway mission on an Imperial cruiser, _he thought to himself. Almost two now. A Jedi tended to have a natural high confidence, he mused, he'd just have to hope his confidence was well founded.

_Focus on your heart._

_Maron._

It steadied him. He could hear the rhythm of his own heart. Pulsing in his finger-tip. He gripped the lightsaber, especially sensitive to the patterns, like finger-prints, under his hand. As familiar to him as a close companion, and a lot easier to hold onto.

A Jedi was supposed to focus on his core. But Maron was close by there.

It was not a Jedi discipline, but between the two, he would make it his discipline. It just meant the Jedi had an extra recruit.

In fact, he mused, she was a New Republic recruit. He almost envied her the excitement and activity – she was right in the middle of the political restructuring, the retraining of troops, the gathering of armadas, the recovering of worlds. Depending on where she was. She was, in an odd way, not unlike the Jedi, she often spent her time teaching and nursing. There were many new colonies and nervous colonists, finally making the move after the crushing brutal regime of the Empire had finally been lifted. Many families reunited, many colonies now with the supplies they needed to tame their new worlds, for there was quite a movement happening there now. Opening up space exploration to the lesser worlds.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

CRASH-LAND

* * *

They had shoved him into the prison pod and ejected him out into space. 50,000 miles up from the planetary surface.

He had snuck aboard the transport, but his infiltration had failed and he was discovered. The _Unknown _wasn't anywhere near close enough to pick up on the trouble either.

_Oh dear. This is... this is going to be bad._

He didn't know what to do. But strangely enough, he didn't feel dread, but mounting tension and excitement.

_A Jedi should be calm. _

He was a Jedi. He could think his way out of this.

_But I have to relax?_

He paused.

_If the Force will provide, I must seek the Force._

A scant few metres above the ground, it came to a final spot, blowing sand out underneath it like a hover-runner.

_Good, because it was that final bounce that would have got me, obviously. Not the 50,000 mile fall. Thank the Force._

And he was thankful. It had preserved his life. Add one more for the Jedi legend in survival.

Goons were approaching him as he clambered out of the cockpit.

"Don't panic, it's just me," he said in Basic, holding his hands up. It was a peaceable gesture in at least eight out of ten encounters, and most people would recognise it anyway. It was a universal gesture of "look, I'm holding no weapons – do I look crazy?"

He coughed and spluttered.

_Sand. _

Wasn't a fan of the stuff.

_Don't mess with the powerful Jedi. _He thought acerbically to himself.

His team found him twelve hours later.

(*)

They decided to risk it and stop for parts. Might be a navigation droid on this desolate world.

Stormtroopers on insect-back, climbing over the massive derelict hulks, with turrets on their backs. They were wielding long arc-staffs, probably so they could electrocute anyone who got in their way, like the labour droids and mechs.

A large one waddled over beyond, a large crab like thing they used to load star-ships. Carrying a large supply crate that had to be at least ten tonnes on its back.

Large salvage transports were hauling some of the more massive pieces from where they had been dislodge. Entire starship engine manifolds and chassis pieces. They would be valuable to a star-yard somewhere, but you could also scrap them from modules and weather panels, construct entire habitats. There were a few cities out here constructed that way. Some of the engines had been converted into huge moisture vaporators for underground farms or to resaturate land, hoping to draw nutrients back into the barren soil. Most often just as the town water supply.

The giant furry creature was sitting down, repairing the scope on the bench, surrounded by sand.

This world was full of salvage, but they weren't going to get much without a salvage team of their own. They made quite a fortune salvaging and repairing parts, squatting here year 'round to make their business.

Per'l didn't have that kind of time. He needed to find a sale. And some information. Still looking for those droids, and this seemed as likely a place as any.

Fortunately he did speak some of the Wookie language.

The Wookie growled at him, which he interpreted as assent.

It paused to spit a fang out into a bucket. It was chewing on one of the desert trythids, scorpion pests. Lot easier than having to move. They had a habit of mistaking the furry Wookies for prey.

_Hm. I don't think it'd be a good idea to recruit a Wookie. They're not easy to work together in a crew, and they're notoriously difficult to persuade. They're worse than Jedi when it comes to companionship with outsiders, which is strange because they're reputably good natured even to outsiders. It must be a clannish thing._

Not that he would have said no if offered. A Wookie provided a lot of imposing presence, and that could be useful in a negotiation. Sometimes it took more than tricks.

(*)

"Oh not me. But Beebo knows all the routes around here. He's my navigation droid. He'll have what you need."

_Just a kid. Great. More to put on the target range. At least if he dies he won't have any parents to miss him._

They had found the kid on the outskirts, working on his speeder. He had a ship, he was very proud to tell them. Little larger than an A-Wing. So far, he had been the closest thing they could find to a navigator on this rock. He had offered to take them to "someone" who could help. That someone happened to be a droid.

As that was what Per'l was looking to purchase.

In exchange, Per'l had agreed to take him off this rock as well. He sighed. Another kid on the crew. Macron would just have to keep him out of trouble, Per'l didn't have the time.

The pilot took them into the massive wreck. There was a very small number of salvagers there. A few fighters and space planes. Most of them the official sort, even some New Republic uniforms.

They found it at the end of an astro-generator pipe, connecting to a long since dead engine. Apparently just repairing it and readying it for salvage. Sparks flew off its welder.

_A navigation droid repurposed for salvage. Interesting. Looked like a junker droid. Guess times really are tight out here._

"Are you kidding? This droid must be over eighty years old. You'll be lucky to get a Mark-II regulator working off one of these things."

It beeped at him apologetically, although it sounded a little offended.

They had tried to find a transport back for Akid, but they were told that it would be better to follow up once the New Republic had taken the place.

"But that could be up to years from now!"

"With the intelligence you gathered, I don't expect it'll take longer than six months to marshal a force out there. If we're lucky, Skywalker will be able to force a surrender."

_Hmm. Yeah, I guess if Luke's on the case... Maybe I could give her to him._

He didn't really want to shirk his responsibilities, but he did feel it was more expedient to give it to more experienced people, while he went through his own. The two goals were in opposite directions, and he didn't want to end up toting her around like a permanent member of the crew.

The two foals were more to keep her out of trouble than anything. He'd never forgive himself if she was hurt or injured if some kind of fight occurred.

The one time they did try to find her a way back on-planet, the ship turned out to be slave traders. One less ship of those in the universe now, but still hadn't left them with many viable options. The galaxy was still an untrustworthy place without the right company.

Per'l had wandered away from the group as Macron examined the droid under the kid's supervision. T'an, he called himself.

He was still troubled.

_Was Kell a clone? Was that the real Kell? If the Sith can dominate minds... what else could they have done? Supplant memories...?_

He slammed his fist against the tri-steel wall.

They returned to the landing area, where Per'l met up with Gunn again.

"I ordered the biggest, gnarliest, oddest gun I could find."

"You could barely lift that thing."

"Don't underestimate a Gunn's strength, my man, they don't often fabricate things to our specifications."

It was a grotesque, massive affair, it had in-built deflector dish, about 20mm wide radius capable of deflecting 100kAMPus of laser energy with a circuit charger that charged right off the ammo set as it was fired. It fired a range and round of heavy bolts at about 12 a second for a single second, with a four second recycle time.

It's secondary fire was a proton laser.

"It'll make a swell ship turret. I don't want TIE fighters blasting my seat off if we have to fight them again. Almost lost an ear to those Imperial probe droids. Tenacious little things."

They had returned, everyone in tow, to the landing area, near the Wookie again, who had finishing repairing some of their equipment. They hadn't expected it, but apparently between him and his Catsuo companion, he was the technician.

And speaking of, the Catsuo perked up its giant ears. "I can hear something incoming."

Per'l fumbled for his hand-radar transponder tracker. Yep. There it was. "Remnant fighters."

"Remnant?"

"Ex-Imperials who haven't quite let go of their Imperialistic dogma."

It gestured around. "They have no choice. The Empire is gone."

"Then you'll have to tell them that when they arrive."

_Got to say, on some level I'm impressed with their stubbornness._

Back on the ground. Anders. "These guys seem a mite tenacious."

"Yes, they are." Per'l replied acerbically at his good humour.

On the ship, there was trouble. The remains of the Imperial probe lit up.

"The head is still active! It's transmitting something... into our systems!"

"Looks like we're compromised, fire up the ship!"

_Got to get to our fighters. Anders and I can give us cover._

He had found his navigator. There was no reason to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

THE SHADOW PLANET

* * *

He had separated from the others. This part of the journey would have to be a Jedi's and a Jedi's alone. The ship would be safe – they were calling into a station, and he trusted they'd be able to handle it without him.

He didn't crash this time. The tree canopy was two hundred metres wide and as strong as bantha tusks, plenty of room to set the fighter down on it.

He had followed a signal. A strange yearning.

He trusted Macron to be around in time to pick him up, after he had found whatever strange thing lurked here.

He had come well equipped. He slashed away the vines with his lightsaber, and swung through the trees. If anything untoward happened, he'd be able to adjust. He packed a basic environmental shield with him, it would have to be sufficient for this world's dangers.

Fortunate. You didn't always have the opportunity to come so prepared.

_If you're going to crash, try picking a swamp. _Luke had said. Well, he hadn't crashed this time. And Luke didn't say you had to do both at the same time.

A bad electrical storm had interfered with his systems and nearly ruined his nav-map, however.

"I'm going to have to try re-routing it through the ship on-board computer"

And he got a fairly decent nav-map going. Still, he had had to replace half the chips.

Great slug-worm beasts crawling through the trees with their baby-claw prehensiles.

"This barbaric jungle must be hundreds of thousands of years behind in evolution at least," he commented, adjusting his tracker.

He watched the worm burrowed underground. He could _feel _its warmth. He meditated, letting his senses stretch out. It was a beautiful feeling. It was strange, creatures of a dozen different species had come to the temple, united by this one thing. This thing he was feeling, they felt it too. One could not exist without the other. And so they were united with something beyond the flesh. True feeling.

There were many powerful knights in training at the temple. He wondered where they would go. The Force called one to many strange places in the universe, he found. They could return with tales of adventures of almost anything.

It was strange. But some time to himself was good, it turned out. He had much to think about.

_Well, this isn't Kashykk. So I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. But it's definitely what I've been following._

The shadow was stronger than ever.

_If there was a Sith presence here, I'd have something to report to Luke. Something to get him on my side._

It was picking up a minute energy signal to the south. He would follow it.

(*)

Above, in another system, the ships readied for war.

(*)

Kell paced aboard the dreadnought.

Then he was sitting down, brooding in the hold with his pistol. He felt the shadow at his back. Knew he would hear the whispers.

The shadow mocked him.

"Yes, I know." he replied to its sibilant whisper.

The mercenaries didn't believe. They mocked him. But it would not last long.

(*)

It wasn't Kashykk, but it sure looked like it from down here, all swamp fog and tall trees. He checked his charter pad. There were a few of those out in this sector, this one could be Miran.

The coincidence of the name almost satisfied him, but it wouldn't do anything for his practical concerns.

What compelled a man into a deepest, darkest jungle such as this? He did not know, but he could feel wild-life all around him. Fog crept in on him, but did not become too heavy to obscure his senses.

Did something call him? He knew such things happened to Jedi – they were sensitive, and the Force was powerful. But Luke had warned him it was not always easy to understand. Experience was the greatest master of all, for those who had experience and training already. But answers could not always be provided in advance, save for caution.

The woman knelt in the fog, her lightsaber glowing red. And she peered up at him. Her face twisted in a sneer.

"You are not my shadow."

"No." Her voice was chilling and disdainful, but beautiful.

They wandered into the darkness, watching each other's backs.

"Why do you call me Sith?"

"It is the dark side because I live in the shadows... It is my life, it is not hostile."

He was boggled at that. He had never considered that. Was it possible to worship and commit oneself to the dark side and be peaceable? It seemed... unlikely. It was a dedication to the darker emotions, rage, wrath, hatred, revenge... they were not peaceable attributes...

Yet there was some semblance of camaraderie among Sith, at least, some sense of order... there had to be. Even the Sith could not survive, divided among themselves and constantly at each other's throats with murder. It was a harsh way, an evil way, but it was a way. Just not the Jedi way, not the way for living, sentient beings to conduct themselves. It led to corruption and self-betrayal, these were facts all Sith had to deny in order to commit themselves, this is something he knew. What everyone should know.

"I came to this world because..." she paused and looked away. "It doesn't matter now. But my ship is some distance."

Something rustled out of the bush. He caught the needle out of the air. "Probably some kind of local toxin – wasn't easy to see, either." He told her, after examining it. _Was he trying to impress her?_

They continued.

"So who is this woman you seek? Your mate?"

_Yes._

But he didn't answer her.

(*)

"Do I not remind you of your love?" she said, her words strange, her eyes absorbing him. He shuddered, trying to break free of the strange trance.

He ignored her taunt.

Maybe he was letting the Sith act on his imagination too much. Ordinarily it would be a good reason not to do this alone – but he was a Jedi.

_A wise Jedi keeps himself open to the small and unexpected paths, because those are the ones that will not be blocked._

He supposed that could make sense.

She was following him, muttering odd advice.

"The main form of life here is a very large insect." Her voice was very strange.

"Be careful you don't turn into what you're hunting," she said softly, almost a hissing. She looked at him and her eyes gleamed.

"Shadows, huh?" he said, picking up the vine from the ground, as if it would tell him answers.

"I've been on jungle worlds before."

The darkness pressing on his thoughts, he thought of earlier times.

_The Remnant ex-"Imperial" officers had him trapped and under arrest. They still held to the old forms even in the absence of lawfulness._

_"__Time to learn about the secrets of Jedi powers."_

_They questioned and tested and probed him. Torture. A Jedi had destroyed their great work, and now they wanted to know how the Jedi worked. _

_He escaped._

He brushed his hair back, the rain turning to dew as it reached him.

_The trooper seemed to be gauging him with the aim of his gun. He was probably wondering his chances of getting inside Per'l's guard, or the shot being deflected back._

_He had an E-22, which meant he could fire his shots very rapidly. Per'l was used to heavy fire-fight engagements, but concentrated focused fire could be dangerous. It meant you didn't always get enough time for a reflection shot, so it kept you on the defensive._

_The trooper took something from behind his back. As Per'l expected, it was a thermal detonator. He was going to roll it and force Per'l into action._

_His options had become limited._

_He had never used the Force that way before. He flew two feet higher than intended. Thrusting out with his foot, he had apparently overturned the rock and created a shockwave near the trooper that staggered him off-balance, taking his shots wide, except for two stray ones. In the moment, he felt the intensity of need and opportunity, and he struck them back. They both struck true, and the trooper had fallen, his armour smoking._

_Trooper armour usually preserved one from an immediate kill-shot unless you followed it up, but he was at least out of action. The burns must be killing him. Then the thermal detonator exploded. Per'l had lost it in all the ruckus._

_It became quickly moot._

He thought that might have been the first time he saw a man die, arguably at his own hands. Up to then, it was plausible that those he fought might have survived. But a Jedi's weapon was designed to be a lethal one if used so.

_If the Jedi in the Old Republic had trained together, to fight as a force, they might never have died to such an ambush. A Force barrier could have protected them long enough for a counter-attack without suicide. _

Too young. Too green. So much senseless slaughter of the galaxy's greatest hope. But even a single Jedi master could have turned the tide.

Even a Jedi needed those who believed in them. They could survive without, but they prospered in times of belief.

He should have known, sooner or later.

"That is the way of things," the Sith hissed.

The Sith was mocking him with his own words. The Force was strange, but the dark side of the Force, it was evil.

He remained in darkness, his thoughts perturbed.

Was this the way of the Jedi?

To be beings of light, living in darkness and doubt? It didn't seem right. He had always been certain of what he wanted, but now that he had access to special knowledge, that certainty was betrayed from him?

He had followed the trail. The strange shifting darkness, the large insects that always seemed to hover out of view. Following the signal, his strange impulse.

He found something. Strange. A strange kind of plant. The great insects seemed to be hovering around it. He sensed a strange pulse of life from it.

His foot scuffed something.

"What is it?"

"A holocron."

He stood up, picking it out of the vines, and dusting it off. It was tinged green, and still carried some of the jungle with it.

"Can you access it?"

"I am Jedi."

"You hate the Sith but you want to study one of their artifacts? Why?" she pressed.

He didn't know. He didn't actually _need _to. He didn't expect to find any vital information.

Perhaps it was the simple allure of knowledge. It was a mystery. And _someone _had to know it. Regretfully he closed his hand back over the access panel before it had finished opening. He would save it, until he could put it in the hands of a proper master. Luke Skywalker.

Odd, her questing, mocking whisper gave him the instant of thought needed to reconsider.

He wondered. Did he need to protect himself against her, a Sith, with hatred? Was that not against the Jedi code?

His usual feeling of contempt seemed to feel weaker than usual, and he didn't know if that was wise. Perhaps it was better to adapt to it, the peaceful yielding of the Jedi way. But was that always the way? He needed to take a break for Jedi meditation.

The Jedi path was a path of knowledge. He didn't think he was wise enough yet.

He turned around, and realised suddenly that she was very close.

She pushed close to him, like she was going to kiss him.

And then the illusion was broken – that internal scream of danger finally overwhelmed whatever malaise had been on his senses. And he saw her for what she truly was.

Her mandibles clicked close – ready to bite -

A blast, and it was sent flying into the trees- into the darkness, he could hear it scuttle away.

He still felt that dread. It had gotten so close. It had been one of the insects, things of darkness, feeding on his fear. He had been followed by a giant insect this entire time. They weren't intelligent, but their illusions were so real.

He had spent this entire time arguing with himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

THE UNKNOWN

* * *

In the time he had been gone, they had their ship refitted with some larger engines, not easy, and it took two weeks, but it was a sizeable improvement. The _Unknown _was benefiting from the exchange at least.

They were rather clandestine, they identified themselves by New Republic warrant, which essentially allowed them to bypass many checks and warrants. It was a writ by Princess Leia herself, who wanted agents of the New Republic to circulate more widely and freely as quickly as possible – before the ex-Imperial remnant had a chance to burrow too deep underground, brewing their Imperial anti-alien dogma. It wasn't just that they were a domineering, crushing political force of absolute rule at the cost of all free worlds too weak to defend themselves. They were based on a specific, self-loving order, and humans were the price to pay for it.

Fresh reason to hate them.

Alien corps' had been very rare. It tended to be thought that only the human storm-troopers were fit to police the galaxy, without attachment to these other breeds and races.

The Sith holocron had been real enough, but its secrets would have to wait.

(*)

Odd to be arrested by a New Republic station. But he didn't have any credentials. He was a ghost as far as the New Republic agencies were concerned, and the _Unknown _contained his warrant.

They'd have to contact Princess Leia herself, and for various reasons that was unlikely to yield any results any time soon. She would be very busy, and she certainly wouldn't appreciate having to bail one of her freelancers out of trouble. He had snooped a little too closely again, and was mistaken by the local law for the enemy.

Unfortunately he had no way of convincing them otherwise, and he certainly didn't want his crew incarcerated along with him.

But he did have a lead.

He broke out. And went searching. He would just have to clear it up later.

(*)

He had tracked it down. A massive Remnant supply transport. Paid for by local syndicates in an illicit alias with the ex-Imperial army. Apparently the Remnant still had many of their evil allies in a choke-hold.

The Blue Knight, guardian, stood ready. He motioned his two war robots, who trained their massive thermal cannons on him.

"I was told to protect this transaction. Even from a Jedi. The Blue Knight cannot fail his responsibilities."

He had shuddered for a moment, as Per'l had used the Force to _lean _on him, but he had apparently recovered. His will was strong, apparently there were no other options to him likely enough to be persuasive.

His energy armour was incredible. Per'l's light-saber flashed off it in sparks. The Blue Knight pointed his gauntlet, and Per'l's eyes widened as two thermal grenades suddenly erupted from it.

Moving at blinding speed, he barely angled himself, in a half-jump, to let one pass beneath him, and the other one over him. Luckily they were impact grenades and not proximity grenades. He had probably been banking on Per'l using the lightsaber or some such. Per'l wasn't entirely sure what effect that'd have, either – didn't exactly have time to study the blueprints.

He hammered the Blue Knight with a bolt of the Force, and as he saw him firing again, using that same strength to simply make the grenades fly apart and into each wall.

The damage to the structure was becoming severe.

If only he knew how to use the Force more effectively, he could paralyse him. He hadn't practised anything so complete, and in the middle of a life and death battle wasn't the time to experiment.

_Except sometimes it's the only time._

Four more of his sentinel guards came out, and he was hard-pressed to keep them at bay at the same time. Running along the tops of the barrels almost on tip-toe he flung one out at them and then clattered himself behind one. Getting out his swinging blaster, he gave them other ideas, leaving two of them either dead or stunned.

The Blue Knight! He had taken advantage of the swirling smoke and approached from the flank, Per'l was too distracted to notice, the one thing a Jedi must not succumb to. He ducked. A phaser bolt passed exactly where his head had been, and his shield wouldn't have saved him.

He was starting to think the Blue Knight wasn't human at all. Maybe not even organic. These companies were insanely wealthy, he wouldn't put it past them to construct an illegal security droid with this kind of insane capability. There were very few things you could trust to single-handedly protect a delivery of this importance. And Jedi were one of them.

In the mean-time, he levelled a blaster rifle, and was firing off careful shots. His own armour made him immune to reflection, but he was just slowing Per'l down, interfering with his momentum. His war robots were lumbering in now.

_Craters._

He flicked up his lightsaber to defend against the first forceful blast. They were firing pure flamethrowers at him. He felt the heat on his shoulders as the lightsaber parted the flames.

His shield took the rest of it, but then it was gone. There were slaves in those pods. He couldn't leave. The ex-Imperials drafting the innocent.

The Blue Knight drew something. Weapon. It sparked along it's length.

An electro-blade.

Per'l almost laughed. The bastard had his own lightsaber, almost. He wouldn't' be surprised if there was some kind of cortosis weave.

He'd have to watch for electro knives. The Blue Knight could close the distance on those jets and get in melee range. His own shield was gone, and it wouldn't protect him from a really powerful impact. The Blue Knight moved as if he had that kind of power.

_All this just for some intel on a shipment. He's not Sith, but if they're working for them..._

It was a daring duel, but eventually Per'l prevailed.

The Blue Knight was laid on the ground, breathing heavily. He surrendered to Per'l.

(*)

Eventually the trail led him to a bar next to the starport, by an unpronounceable name.

It wasn't where the transport had been heading, but he would have to follow that up at another time – or pass it on to other agents.

He thought he might find a seller in this bar. The cortex had no information on the holocron he recovered, and he didn't want to try personally accessing it. The ancient Sith may have left booby-traps for precisely that reason.

He had left his crew to try and get a good contact with the New Republic. It would speed things up considerably. He had simply gone ahead.

He knew Maron would be uncontactable, under the circumstances.

There were ex-Imperials in the bar, Remnant soldiers. They were the power here.

He asked around surreptitiously, trying not to attract too much attention. He was starting to pick up a warning sensitivity however, and eventually he had pinned it down to the two goons at the bar, local muscle, maybe even syndicate gangsters – not the reasons he thought.

They were discussing the Death Star, and his instincts instantly told him it was trouble.

"Should call it the "will explode Star" the goon grunted, swilling his drink.

The ex-Imperials glanced at each other, and walked over.

_Great._

The confidence in the Empire had fallen after the destruction of the Death Star. Even after the fall of the Empire itself, if there was anything to start a fight with ex-Imperial forces, that was a pretty sore point.

He had to intercede.

"Easy, friend." He placed a hand on the offending gangster. He was about to concoct a story invented to get the two out of trouble. He owed them nothing except his sympathy.

It wasn't enough. A fight broke out.

_Sigh._

(*)

He wound up having to defend the guy. Unbelievable.

He had made quite a scene, standing there with his blazing lightsaber. He had swiftly disarmed them, and it descended into a brutal melee. One against six against two.

The storm-trooper cracked him on the side of the head with the broken rifle, and sent him with a blow, staggering. With fury in his head, he brushed the weapon aside, and sent a crushing fist of power with the Force, blasting the soldier back. He hit the table so hard, he cracked the old thing in half in the middle. He didn't move.

Per'l rubbed his head, feeling tired. But they were all down, groaning or cold.

He didn't think he was going to find Maron this way. Those star-charts were his only hope and now he didn't even have transport.

"You're a Jedi, huh?" the gangster said, through one bleary eye, bruised over by a stormtrooper fist.

"Hey." The goon put a hand on his arm. "You're looking for Jedi artifacts right?"

_That too. Which was a bust as soon as the fight broke out, no time now, friend._

But he was surprised as the goon put a pad in his hand.

"These will have the contacts you want. You look like you need a hand."

_I didn't even use the Force. And it tells me he's as sincere as he looks._

Every once in a while the galaxy did astonish him.

_Guess sentiment toward the ex-Empire isn't too high around here. A surprise, but very welcome. _He hadn't expected them to like a Jedi anymore than the Imperials.

The bartender gestured at a door with his thumb.

"Thanks, pal," Per'l said. And he meant it. He dropped a tip for the guy, flicking it into his hand for the trouble. Both of them.

He found it. Their TIE fighters and PTCs, small infantry gunships for stormtroopers.

Per'l stole a TIE fighter to use against the Imperial formation. He escaped their scrutiny. His own A-Wing was still in berth.

He rejoined the _Unknown._

(*)

The stern looking woman, liaison of the New Republic terminated the communication. She hadn't seemed to care for Per'l – she had, in fact, froze him out of their operation - but they got their permission and warp vectors.

_What am I, a bounty hunter? Doesn't she know a Jedi when she see one?_

He had sent a transmission earlier, to test the communication system. It looked like she got it. He suspected she had been pestering some time for him to answer her response, she didn't seem to type to take waiting.

"Per'l? We've got trouble." He heard Macron over the intercom.

(*)

Captured. They had been hunted and found.

A vessel decloaked. A Remnant frigate-class seeker. The timing must have been perfect.

They had been intercepted right on the verge of their last most important warp jump, and instantly seized in their tractor beam. They must have been anticipated.

"Kell?" Per'l said, half wondering, as his once-friend's face appeared on their communications holo. Standing on the projector like he owned the ship.

"Is this the friend of yours?" Anders asked.

"Yes."

"Some friend." He folded his arms.

"How'd you survive?" Per'l asked him. _Just got to delay him for a few seconds, I know Macron is onto something, blasted galaxy knows what._

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kell seemed to enjoy the moment, but something writhed in his features. There had been insanity in his eyes the last Per'l had seen him, and never forgotten. It was so clear to him.

"Hang on, I'm going to try something..." Macron said suddenly. The communicator was filtered, Kell shouldn't be able to hear them.

"Macron? What are you doing?"

The ship shuddered. _I know what she's doing, she's inverting the warp impeller field. By the stars, that'll break us free alright, it also could crush us when she reverts it back._

The shuddering intensified.

They broke free and made for open space. The chase was on – they couldn't even use their fighters – they'd be obliterated instantly. Even Anders was tense. The children were locked in the security hold.

They had made it. And he breathed a sigh of relief. They had taken some damage. Recalculating for an instant jump, inverting and reverting the impeller field – any scant error could have destroyed them.

When they got back to the temple, Luke should promote her to master rank of escape artists.

Kell.

He had used to be an agent for the Primarial trade unification, one of the largest mercantile groups in the now New Republic. Per'l had thought him an invaluable ally, and now it looked like an enemy as well. A tenacious one. And he would know where they were headed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

MARON AT LAST

* * *

He got his astro-navigator – updating all his charts. He had chart information from pilots from all over seventy out of eighty systems they needed to pass through, although they were coming to the end of it now.

Per'l didn't know exactly what world she'd be on now, but he knew where her headquarters would be, where he should be able to contact her. Virtually on the other side of the galaxy.

He came into the infirmary, to find them there.

"Her vitamin's a little low." Macron said to him, her voice concerned.

Akid seemed sleepy, tired, lying on the med-bed. Macron was giving her an intake through a feed, in the low, relaxing lighting. Almost like a mother with her child.

"Alright we'll stop in the next port."

_Maron would probably have a good context what to do. She had to organise needs for probably dozens if not hundreds of different species. In all the time I've been hopping the galaxy, she still has twice the contact with others that I do. No doubt she thinks it's due to my selfish ways._

He tapped on the panel. He had found the system. He had found her.

Maron.

"It can't have been easy." She said when she saw him.

"It wasn't easy."

He found Maron. They kissed.

THE END


End file.
